


Butterfly Boy

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Parent/Child Incest, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco loses one of Lucius' rings which he's mercifully been given permission to play with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butterfly Boy

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to move all my old fic from Livejournal to here. Some of this stuff is very old, so yeah...

Draco was on his knees in the dirt. He was sweating and panting. Where was it? It had slipped from his fingers just a second ago and now it was gone.

The child groaned and shook his head to rid his face of damp strands of white hair. If he didn’t find it he knew that his father would be angry with him. The boy’s small fingers darted in and out among the flowers and grass, searching for the lost ring.

His father had, after much persuasion from Draco, let him borrow the ring to play with and Draco had sworn not to lose it. With an angry outcry Draco gave up and sat down, biting back frustrated tears. It had been right there! How could it just disappear like that? As far as Draco knew things couldn’t just become invisible or disappear in their own accord. Unless they were meant to do so, like The Invisible Book of Invisibility, but Draco knew that the ring had no powers like that. In fact, Draco wasn’t sure if the ring had any magical powers at all. He knew that his father had gotten it from somewhere or someone back in the years when the Dark Lord was alive. How Lucius had gotten the ring, he didn’t know. When he asked, Lucius would simply smile a mysterious smile and tell Draco that he was too young to know.

As long as Draco could remember he had been fascinated by the rings on his father’s fingers. Almost all ten of the strong, long fingers bore one or more rings and they all had their own special history, Lucius had said. But he wouldn’t tell Draco any of them yet.

“When you’re older, my boy,” he would say and ruffle Draco’s hair.

Being now six years old Draco considered himself quite old enough to know, but Lucius seemed to disagree to the boy’s great displeasure.

“Booger!” was all Draco could say and hid his sweaty face in his hands, smearing dirt all over his cheeks. It was useless. He had searched all over the flowerbed, his fingers and clothes were dirty and his knees were scratches from crawling around on all fours. And still the ring was nowhere in sight. It was too much for the boy and tears began sliding from his cheeks, trailing white lines across the dirty skin. His mother would be angry because he’d gotten himself and his clothes dirty, and his father would be angry because he had lost the ring.

Draco was so absorbed in his own misery that he didn’t notice the dark clouds gather in the sky above him, and it wasn’t until a drop of cold water hit the back of his neck that Draco looked up. Rain began to fall from the dark skies in big fat drops and soon the flowerbed around him had transformed into one big pool of mud. Draco looked towards the manor. It looked nice and warm in there, but Draco knew what lay in store for him if he got inside, so he didn’t move. He just sat there in the heavy rain, letting it pour over his face and hands. Everything seemed so quiet, and the only thing Draco could hear was the sound of the water and the frogs in the nearby pond. Everything else, birds and insects, had fallen quiet, probably fled the rain.

Draco was wondering if he should do the same when he heard the shrill voice of his mother calling across the garden from the terrace.

“Draco? Draco Malfoy, get inside! You’ll get wet and dirty. Draco? Come inside now!”

Draco knew she couldn’t see him from there, but even so he got up on all fours and crawled away. Not so far ahead stood a huge Butterfly Bush, its white flowers bobbing slowly up and down, heavy with water. Draco had hidden here before, last year, when he had broken his mother’s favourite vase after they had had a fight. He crawled underneath the leaves and flowers and found a nice little dry spot for him to sit inside the bush, completely surrounded by green and white. He could still hear him mother calling him, but he knew better than to answer her. Here she would never find him, and Draco snickered slightly at the thought of her frustration. But then he heard something else. The rain had stilled and it was now easy to hear the sound of footsteps approaching across the wet and muddy ground. Draco held his breath and tried to be as quiet as possible while the footsteps came closer still; then stopped somewhere close by. Chewing his bottom lip in suspense, Draco leaned a bit forward and carefully parted the branches to peek out.

“Oh!”

With a gasp Draco jerked backwards. He had been gazing directly out into a face, but Draco had been so surprised that he hadn’t had time to see who it was before pulling back.

An amused chuckled sounded, then the order: “Draco, come out now.”

Draco swallowed thickly. It was the sound of his father’s voice and he didn’t sound happy. Blushing, Draco crawled out from under the bush and got up. The top of his head only just reached his father to his elbows and he didn’t dare look up.

“Dear me,” Lucius drawled from above. “Look what came out of the Butterfly Bush; a butterfly boy.”

Draco could hear in his voice that he was upset. Maybe he had already figured out that Draco had lost the ring? Draco did nothing but nod, still keeping his head shamefully lowered and his eyes on his father’s black leather boots.

Lucius sighed and crouched down before the boy. “Draco…” he put a finger under the child’s chin and raised his head up to meet his eyes, “you mustn’t hide like that. Have you any idea how worried I was?”

Draco half nodded, half shook his head, biting his lip to fight back tears of embarrassment. He hated to make his father worry. He hated that even more than making him angry.

“I’m sorry, Father,” Draco mumbled, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, but as he looked into his father’s grey eyes he could see that he had already been forgiven and a small smile formed on his lips.

His father’s thumb brushed slightly over the boy’s lower lip, and for a moment they just looked at each other.

Lucius cleared his throat and got up. “Look at the state of you,” he said, looking down at the child before him, who blushed. “Such a dirty boy,” Lucius hummed and took Draco’s hand. “Come.”

As they got inside they where met by Narcissa’s glare. “Where was he?” she demanded of Lucius, who merely looked at her calmly.

“Draco was playing in the fruit garden and didn’t hear you call,” he said, still holding his son’s hand.

“And how did you get so filthy, Draco?”

Draco looked up at his mother’s angry face and didn’t know what to say, but his father came to his aid.

“He is a boy, Narcissa. Real boys get dirty when they play.”

Narcissa obviously didn’t like that answer, but didn’t argue. Lucius’ voice was final as he spoke again.

“I will help him get cleaned up. Then we’ll have lunch.” And then Draco was taken upstairs to the master bathroom while Narcissa glared after them.

Once inside the bathroom, Lucius closed and locked the door behind them, then turned to face his son.  
Draco was standing in the middle of the room; his dirty clothes, face and hands made him stand out in stark contrast to all the white marble surrounding him. He felt oddly exposed underneath his father’s gaze and looked down.

When Lucius told Draco to sit down the boy obeyed, sitting down on the marble edge of the built-in bathtub. His father summoned a small jar of something, then kneeled down before Draco.

“This will sting a bit, love,” Lucius told him, unscrewing the lid of the jar and putting some of the yellow-white potion inside it onto a tissue. “I have to clean your scratches before I can heal them.”

Nodding, Draco watched as Lucius dabbed the tissue ever so gently against one of his hurt knees.

Draco hissed and jerked his leg away. “Hurts,” he mumbled.

“I know, my boy,” Lucius hummed, looking up at him and smiling softly. “Just sit still and it will be over in no time, hm?”

Draco sniffed a bit and nodded once more. Biting his lip and watching Lucius, Draco allowed him in clean his scratched knees with no more protests. Done, Lucius drew out his wand and flicked it once over each knee; scratches instantly healed themselves, leaving neither marks nor scars on the smooth skin. Draco rubbed his knees. “Thank you, Father,” he mumbled.

Lucius smiled at him. “Now,” he said, putting away jar and wand. “Let’s get you all cleaned up. Strip.”

“Yes, Father.” Draco got off the edge of the bathtub and began undressing. His dirty clothes were thrown in the corner and a moment later Draco stood completely naked before his father. He blushed. It had always felt…different with Lucius. When he had been younger Draco had had no thought of undressing before his parents. It just felt natural, but now…

Draco refused to be naked before his mother. She didn’t approve of being naked, anyway. But it was not the same with his father. The air always seemed heavier, thicker, whenever Draco would be naked under his father’s grey eyes. He liked it; liked the feeling of having his father’s undivided attention.

This time was no different. Draco could almost feel the heat echoed in Lucius’ eyes as he looked up into them. The light grey irises seemed to practically burn as they watched him.

“Come.”

Draco obeyed and took his father’s hand. Lucius led him over to the shower cabin.

“Get inside.”

Draco stepped into the marble cabin, goose bumps all over his small, naked body. Lucius rolled up his sleeves and took down the shower head – he turned on the water and checked the temperature, before letting it stream over his dirty son.

Draco gasped softly as the water hit his skin, then closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth.

“Mmmh.”

“Draco, hand me that sponge and the soap, please.”

Lucius let the now soap-soaked sponge glide slowly and carefully down Draco’s arm, cleaning him.

“Father?” Draco blushed and looked down. He knew he couldn’t stall telling Lucius about the ring any longer. If he did, Lucius would only be even angrier with him.

“Hm?” Lucius’ eyes never left Draco’s skin as he answered.

“I…” Draco chewed his lip, his eyes following the slow strokes of the sponge now working on his other arm. “I lost your ring. I’m really, really sorry. I dropped it and when I looked for it, it was just gone.”

Lucius stopped his movements and Draco held his breath, bracing himself for being yelled at.

“So…” Lucius looked up at him, “that’s why you were hiding?”

Draco nodded, keeping his head lowered again. He was sure Lucius would be angry with him, maybe even slap him. Lucius had never slapped Draco before, but Draco had heard about fathers slapping their sons from his friends.

“What a naughty boy you are, child.”

Draco blinked. Lucius didn’t sound angry at all. More like amused. “Tell me what you are, Draco.”

“I’m a naughty boy, Father.” Draco blushed. Somehow it felt like the words meant something else than they usually did. Like they had a secret.

“Say it again.”

“I-I’m a naughty boy, Daddy.”

Lucius seemed to register how pressured Draco felt. ‘Daddy’ wasn’t usually used except for situations where Draco was either feeling very loving, sad, or nervous.

Draco felt strong fingers under his chin and his head was lifted to look into warmly glowing grey eyes.

“Draco…” Lucius smiled. “Look.” He held up his hand.

Draco’s eyes widened. The ring! How…? Draco was unable to say or do anything but stare disbelieving at the heavy silver ring on Lucius forefinger.

His father chuckled at his amazed face and leaned forward, brushing his lips over the wet and warm cheek of his son. “It always returns to the owner,” he whispered, barely audible over the noise of the water, still pouring from the showerhead now lying on the marble floor of the cabin. “I knew you had dropped it when it suddenly appeared on my desk.”

Draco was stunned - so stunned that he didn’t notice Lucius’ hand slipping down until wet and warm fingers brushed lazily over his little cock. Draco gasped and blushed. They had done this before, but only a single time and Draco wasn’t sure what it was yet. He knew that it felt good, very good even, but it also felt…forbidden. And naughty. This made Draco like it even more, especially because Lucius seemed to like it so much - and what Lucius liked, so liked Draco.

He turned his gaze down to watch how his father’s large fingers stroked gently over the small shaft. Draco had to let out a moan - it just felt so nice that he couldn’t keep quiet. The noises just forced their way out of him, he had no control. Another moan and his little cock twitched against Lucius’ fingers and began to grow. Draco was impressed every time to see how his small pale cock suddenly grew larger, almost the full size of his father’s thumb, and how the shade of the tip changed from pale pink to dark pink, almost red.

Before Draco could think another thought, however, a fresh and rather loud moan was ripped from him - his father had directed the many small beams of water, streaming from the shower head, directly at Draco’s groin. It tickled like mad and still it felt like a thousand small tongues flickering over the very sensitive skin of his balls. Draco couldn’t stand it much longer. He yearned for friction, to grind against his father’s large hand, to be touched properly and not in this teasing, feather-light manner.

Lucius must have been able to read the frustration in his son’s face because not much later the showerhead was back in its holder again. He was on his feet and undressing. Draco watched as Lucius revealed his strong, smooth body and his semi-erect cock. Draco couldn’t take his eyes from it; he’d never been able to. Whenever he saw his father naked, it was sure that his gaze would travel down between his thighs. It was just so, for lack of better words, big. So much bigger than Draco’s own was and would probably ever be, Draco mused.

Lucius stepped inside the cabin and under the water, letting it pour down his face and long hair. Draco watched him, taking in how droplets of water slid down Lucius’ stomach and the hollow of his navel. Then he stepped close and reached up towards Lucius.

“Up?”

Draco felt small, so small, in his father’s strong arms and snuggled against his wet body with a content grunt. Fingers from one hand threaded into Draco’s hair, the other hand slipped down the child’s body to cup his arse. Draco released a small, soft moan as fingers slid between the cheeks to circle and push lightly against the hole. 

“Ah!” Draco shifted against his father’s body, tightening his grip around his neck. “More,” he whispered. “Want more, Daddy.”

Lucius chuckled and kept his fingers working the muscle. A soft feeling of pleasure hummed through Draco’s small body and soon he was calm and relaxed in his father’s arms. Lucius seemed to have noticed this and took a step back to stand directly under the water. At the same time Draco felt how the tip of Lucius’ middle finger breached his body, pushed past the ring of muscle and into the heat of his body. The sensation ripped a loud yelping moan from him, and his body clenched instinctively around the finger.

“Relax, boy,” Lucius hummed against his cheek, while kissing it again and again. “Daddy will make you feel so good.” Then he moved his lips to Draco’s neck, sucking and licking on the faded bruise under his ear.  
Draco swallowed and nodded. He had tried this before, once. But he knew that it would feel incredible good if he only did what Lucius said.

As soon as he managed to relax his body, his father pushed in deeper, so deep that Draco could feel the cool metal of his ring. He whimpered and hid his face against Lucius’ shoulder, his breathing speeding up. “D-daddy… don’t stop.

“Never,” was the whispered answer in his ear.

The sound of the water, the moist heat, the feeling of his father’s finger thrusting slowly into him, the softly panting breath against his cheek, his father’s strong body against his - it was all so overwhelming that Draco began to slip away, his mind a pleasant burry haze of sensations as small gasping moans escaped his lips.

Then a jolt with the force of an electric shock shot through him, wrenching a loud yelp from him. Lucius had touched something inside him, something that made violent shivers curl up his spine, and Draco wailed out his dry orgasm in his father’s arm.

Whimpering and panting he sagged against Lucius’ chest, his small body trembling and his tears lost in the water.

“Lovely boy, beautiful boy,” Lucius hummed against his cheek, kissing it. “Daddy’s special boy.”

Draco only managed a slight nod before his mind and body gave up and he slipped away in sleep.

He didn’t notice how Lucius gently dried him up while still carrying him in his arm. Nor did he wake up as Lucius tenderly laid him down in his bed and tucked the bed covers around him. Not even the soft kiss pressed against his forehead or the whispered words of I love you tore Draco from his sleep.

He just slept, undisturbed by the fight that broke out between his parents downstairs. Draco’s mind was fluttering around butterflies and his father’s lips on his skin.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own none of this.


End file.
